General Handicapper
by ldypebsaby
Summary: Recently Kurt Vonnegut passed on and one of my fave short stories he wrote was Harrison Bergeron. SO I decided to do a parody of sorts using the cast from XMen Evolution. Sad little Jottness too ENJOY!


Look up in the sky, it's a bird, no it's a plane, wait… it's a DISCLAIMER!!!

!!DISCLAIMER!!

Before we get on with the show a few things: First off this is a tribute if you will to Kurt Vonnegut, a brilliant writer who recently passed on. This story is a parody of sorts, of his short story called _Harrison Bergeron_. You can easily find it on the internet if you google Kurt Vonnegut Short Stories. Here is the link I found the story on http//instruct. just take out the spaces.

One last thing… I own nothing, I didn't come up with the plot nor did I invent the X-Men. I merely put the two together. One more thing, please leave a comment if you read this. .

Enjoy

**Handicapper General **

The year was 2010 and everyone was finally equal. They were equal in everyway possible. No one was smarter than anybody else. No one was stronger or better looking or quicker. All this equality was due to General Striker, the United States Handicapper General. Striker had an unceasing vigilance of agents to keep the total equality enforced.

In the Xavier Institute many changes have occurred since General Striker came into power. All mutant are required by law to wear collars around their necks to repress their powers because mutants having powers is unfair to everyone else. All of the girls now wear hideous masks because it was unfair to be so pretty when some women were not. Rogue had weights on her back because she was strong and it was unfair that she was strong. Kurt had lead chains on his legs because he was far more graceful then the average person. Most of the residents of the Xavier Institute had a little mental handicap radio in their ears. They were all required to wear them by law at all times. The device, every twenty seconds, would send out some sort of sharp noise to keep people that were above normal intelligence from using their brains as an unfair advantage.

The poor Professor had two, one in each ear. He could hardly keep a coherent thought in his head. He and his former X-Men sat around a medium size television, watching ballet. Magneto, now referred to as Eric or Mr. Lehnsherr, and the Brotherhood of Mutants were there too. Since everyone was now equal there was no reason to fight anymore. Pietro had over a hundred pounds of lead wrapped around his legs. He had to shave every hair on his face including his eyelashes and wear a fake hairy moles because he was better looking than the average male. Todd also had weights around his legs, but he didn't have to alter his appearance since he was average. Fred only had to wear a thousand pounds worth of weights because he was still very strong even without his powers. Fred was considered completely average intellectually, which meant he couldn't think about anything except in short bursts.

But today was a tragic day for the Professor. A month ago General Striker took Scott Summers, the young man who was like a son to him, away. It was terribly tragic, but no one could think about it for too long. As the Professor began to think about what had happen to Scott a buzzer noise sounded in Xavier's head, his thoughts scattering to the wind.

"That was a pretty dance," comment Fred.

"Eh." Said the Professor

"That dance-it was nice," said Fred

"Yep." Said the Professor. He started to think about the ballerinas. They weren't very good at all, at least no better than anyone else in the room. Each ballerina was burdened with sash weights, bags of sand, and hideous masks. Some must have been very pretty, because they wore such ugly masks. So it was impossible to see a free and graceful gesture or move. The Professor started thinking perhaps the dancers shouldn't be handicapped. But as soon as he started thinking, a loud sound shattered his thoughts.

The Professor and some of his former X-Men winced. As did two of the eight ballerinas.

Fred saw them wince. Having no mental handicap himself he had to ask what the latest sound had been.

Kitty replied, "Sounded like someone scrapping their nails on a chalkboard then blowing up the chalkboard."

Fred pondered this a moment, "It must be interesting hearing so many different sounds all the time. All the different sounds that they come up with."

"Umm," was Kurt's response.

"Only, if I was General Striker, I'd have organ music on Sundays. Kinda like church sounds."

"I would be able to think with music." Said Bobby.

"Well-I'd make it really loud." Said Fred. "I think I'd make a good Handicapper General."

"Good as anybody else." Said Eric

The Professor started to think about his abnormal sergeant son who was now in jail, but the sound of glass shattering stopped that.

"Boy, that was one doozy of a step." Comment Fred

It was such a doozy that the Professor was white and trembling and tears stood on the rims of his red eyes. Two of the eight ballerinas had collapsed on the stage holding their temples. Eric was rubbing his temples as he sighed in exhaustion. Even for a man of his age he had many weights on his form.

"All of a sudden you look tired Mr. Lehnsherr," said Fred. "Why don't you go lay down so you can rest your handicap bag. Go and rest the bag. I don't care if you're not equal to me for a while."

Eric weighed the bag with his hands, "I don't mind it. I don't even notice it any more. It's a part of me."

Fred continued, "But you've been so tired lately-kind of wore out. If there was just some way we could make a little hole in the bottom of the bag, and just take out a few of them lead balls. Just a few for a little bit."

"Two years in prison and two thousand dollars fine for every ball I take out. I don't call that a bargain." Eric replied.

"If you could just take a few out when you came back from your job. I mean-you don't have to compete with anybody around here. You just sit around with the rest of us." Said Fred

"If I tried to get away with it," Eric said, "then other people would get away with it and pretty soon we'd be right back to the dark ages again. Everybody competing against everybody else. You wouldn't like that, would you?"

"I'd hate it," said Fred.

"There you are," said Eric. "The minute people start cheating on laws, what do you think happens to society?"

If Fred hadn't been able to come up with an answer to this question, Eric couldn't have supplied one. A siren was going off in his head.

"Hmm, Reckon it'd fall all apart," said Fred.

"What would.?" Eric said blankly

"Society," Fred said uncertainly. "Wasn't that what you just said?"

"Who knows." Said Eric

The television program was suddenly interrupted for a news bulletin. It wasn't clear at first as to what the bulletin was about since the announcer, like all announcers, had a serious speech impediment. For about a minute, in a state of high excitement, the announcer tried to say, "Ladies and gentlemen-"

He finally gave up and handed the bulletin to one of the ballerinas to read.

"That's all right-" Todd said of the announcer, "he tried. That's the big thing. He tried to do the best he could with what God gave him. He should get a nice raise for trying so hard."

"Ladies and gentlemen," said the ballerina, reading the bulletin. She must have been extraordinarily beautiful, because the mask she wore was most hideous. And it was easy to see that she was the strongest and most graceful of all the dancers. Her handicap bags were as big as worn by two-hundred-pound men.

And she had to apologize at once for her voice, which was very unfair of a voice for a woman to use. Her voice was silky smooth with a timeless melody. "Excuse me," she began, making her voice absolutely uncompetitive.

"Scott Summers, age 19," she squawked, "has just escaped from jail, where he was held on suspicion of plotting to overthrow the government. He is a genius and an athlete, is under-handicapped and should be regarded as extremely dangerous."

A police photograph of Scott Summers was flashed on the screed-upside down, sideways, upside down again, then finally right side up. Scott's appearance was a Halloween and hardware. Nobody has ever worn so many handicaps. He had out grown hindrances faster than the Handicap General could think them up. Instead of a little ear radio for a mental handicap, he wore a huge pair of earphones, his red spectacles where thick and had wavy lenses. The wavy lenses not only made him half blind, but they also gave him intense headaches.

Scrap metal was hung all over him. Usually there was certain symmetry to the handicaps. But Scott looked like a walking junkyard.

And to set off his good looks, Scott was required to wear at all times a red rubber ball for a nose, keep his eyebrows shaved off and cover his even white teeth with black caps.

"If you see this boy," said the ballerina, "do not-I repeat, do NOT-try to reason with him."

There was a booming sound of a wall be crushed to bits. Screams and barking cries of consternation came from the television set. The photograph of Scott on screen jumped again and again, as though dancing to the tune of an earthquake.

The Professor correctly identified the earthquake, and well he might have – for many was the time his own home had danced to the same crashing tune. "My God, that must be Scott."

The realization was blasted from his mind instantly by the sound of a building collapsing in his head.

When the Professor could open his eyes again, the photograph of Scott was gone. A living, breathing Scott filled the screen.

Clanking, clownish, and huge, Scott stood in the center of the stage. Ballerinas, technicians, musicians, and announcers cowered on their knees before him, expecting to die.

"I am the Emperor!" yelled Scott. "Do you hear? I am the Emperor! Everybody must do what I say at once!" He stamped his foot and the stage shook

"Even as I stand here-" he bellowed, "crippled, hobbled, sickened – I am a greater ruler than any man who ever lived! Now watch me become what I CAN become!"

Scott tore the straps of his handicap harness like wet tissue paper. Scotts scrap-iron handicaps crashed to the wall. Tearing off all the other handicaps he had had to bear for so long. He tore of the horrible glasses and slipped on sleek red shades. He flung away his rubber-ball nose, revealing a man that would have awed Thor.

"I shall now select my Empress!" he said, looking down on the cowering people. "Let the first woman who dares rise to her feet claim her mate and her throne!"

A moment passed, and then the ballerina who read the news bulletin earlier rose, swaying like a willow.

Scott plucked the mental handicap from her ear, snapped off her physical handicaps with marvelous delicacy. Last of all, Scott removed her mask.

She was blindingly beautiful. Long slender legs were revealed. She flexed her strong delicate arms, her body was finally free. She had large firm breast, hypnotizing green eyes, and flowing red hair. The Professor recognized her, it was Jean Grey. Every time he wondered where she had gone his thoughts would be disrupted.

"Now," crooned Scott, taking her hand, "shall we show these people the meaning of the word dance? MUSIC!" he commanded.

The musicians scrambled back into their chairs and Scott stripped them of their handicaps, too. "Play your best," he told them, "and I'll make you barons and dukes and earls."

The music began. It was normal at first – cheap, silly, false. But Scott snatched two musicians from their chairs, waved them like batons as he sang the music as he wanted it played. He slammed them back into their chairs.

The music began again and was much better.

Scott and his Empress merely listened to the music for a while – listened gravely, as though synchronizing their heart beats with it.

Then they shifted their weights to their toes.

Scott placed his big hands on Jean's tiny waist, letting her sense the weightlessness that would soon be hers.

And then, in an explosion of joy and grace, into the air they sprang!

Not only were the laws of the land abandoned, but so were the law of gravity and the law of motion as well.

They twisted, reeled, whirled, flounced, swiveled and spun.

They leaped like deer on the moon.

The stage ceiling was thirty feet high, but each leap brought the dancers nearer to it. It became their obvious intention to kiss the ceiling.

They kissed it.

And then, they remained suspended in the air inches below the ceiling. They kissed each other for a long long time. A kiss so pure and passionate it brought many in the audience to their knees.

It was then that General Striker, the Handicapper General, came into the theater with a double-barreled ten-gauge shotgun. He fired twice, and the Emperor and the Empress were dead before they hit the floor.

General Striker loaded the gun again and aimed it at the musicians, "You have ten seconds to get your handicaps back on."

It was then that the television went black.

Todd turned to comment about the blackout to Eric, but Eric had gone out to the kitchen for a can of beer.

When Eric came back with a can of beer he paused while a handicap signal shook him up. And then he sat down again. He looked at the Professor, "Charles, have you been crying?"

"Yes," said the Professor.

"What about?" Eric asked

"I forgot, something real sad was on the television." Said the Professor.

"What was it?" asked Eric

"I can't quite recall." The Professor winced as another screech rang in his mind.

"Forget sad things." Said Eric

"I always do," said the Professor.

"That is good my friend," said Eric. Both Eric and the Professor winced. There was the sound of riveting guns in their heads.

"Gee-I could tell that one was a doozy," said Fred.

"You can say that again," said Eric

"Gee-" said Fred, "I could tell that one was a doozy."

Fin


End file.
